


Catharsigenesis

by karmaylore



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 22:48:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karmaylore/pseuds/karmaylore
Summary: Life is difficult when you're a homicidal sociopath and the object of your greatest daily ire is off limits to you. And it certainly hasn't gotten better for Kylo Ren after his humiliating defeat at the hands of the pathetic scavenger and traitorous former stormtrooper. But maybe things are beginning to look up: before receiving punishment for his failure, Snoke gives Kylo the opportunity to start the end of his training in a way he'd only imagined in his most pleasant dreams.





	Catharsigenesis

**Author's Note:**

> Alt title: @ hux: die bitch
> 
> Anyway, this is something I thought about and wrote well before episode 8 came out. No idea why I'm only getting to posting it now ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. Either way, enjoy!

He wasn’t afraid. He could count, on both hands, the number of times he’d been truly, viscerally fearful. He guessed that if this was a situation where someone who cared about him knew what was happening – what was maybe about to happen – that they might be afraid for him. But he knew better than that.

Snoke wasn’t going to kill him, he thought, as the ship landed. There might be some punishment, but Snoke had never gone too far with that, even in all the times he’d messed up in the past. Okay, though he had to admit: it had never been as bad as this time. But it hadn’t even entirely been his fault, and Snoke would know that, and he was still too important to Snoke, so he was safe.

The ship touched the ground and whirred to a stop. The pilot – some kind of droid, he guessed – clicked some switches or something on the dash and it seemed to sigh, turning off completely. The door hissed open and he jumped up, ready to be out of this dull, cramped space.

He breathed in sharply, clutching his head.

_ Shit _ .

He knew he wouldn’t be completely healed yet, but the world was spinning, and it was more ridiculous than anything else. He banged on the wall of the ship and used the Force to steady himself.

_ Okay, okay _ .

He took a deep breath. This was fine. He’d fared worse.

Well, not really, at least not physically. But telling himself that sort of helped.

There was a sigh, and Kylo felt the Force turn hot and acrid inside him, and he spun around to face Hux. Hux, his fellow fuck-up of the hour, had this squarish face that sort of always looked pinched (especially right now, for example), like he was always disapproving of whatever he saw you do. Which was on purpose, Kylo guessed, since he put an unreasonable amount of effort into his appearance. He thought Hux was kind of unsettlingly ugly.

Kylo was only maybe a few centimeters taller than Hux, but he stared down at him, lip curled.

“What?” Kylo snapped.

Hux looked at him and frowned as if the sight of Kylo was unpleasant to him. Which they both knew it was.

“Nothing, Ren,” he replied.

Kylo narrowed his eyes.

“Nothing…?”

“Yes, nothing,” he said, annoyed, bored.

It kind of reminded him of how his mother would sound when he was younger. Kylo wanted to hit him. But for some reason, Snoke didn’t give him that much free reign with the higher-ups, so instead he just wheeled back around and walked off the ship.

At least the planet was nice. The name was maybe a string of letters and numbers, but it was just some Outer Rim planet so it didn’t really matter. It was dusk – if this planet had a dusk, of course – so the light was diffuse, bearable. Snoke’s… house? headquarters? palace? sat in the field in front of them. It was sizeable, multiple stories of clean duracrete, though more about function than form. Because it was essentially, when you got down to it, a large, rectangular box. It was adorned with almost nothing: not a parapet, column, balcony, or even – oddly enough – a window. (From experience, Kylo knew there were actually two, but not where you could see them from the front.)

Over the entrance was hung a startlingly red banner which bore the First Order insignia. To the side stood one of Snoke’s Praetorian Guard, dressed in the same alarming red as the banner.

“How quaint,” Hux commented, standing beside Kylo now.

Kylo rolled his eyes.

“What were you expecting? A dark tower on Mustafar?”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

The… building, sure, was then surrounded by a forest and everything was very… green. It was warm here, too, even as a breeze swept by and made everything shiver. Two things struck him then. One, that it was a weird sort of irony that they were on a planet that was so… calm, after everything that had just happened. And two – and this was the one that always came up – that it sort of reminded him of Chandrila, the planet where he’d mostly grown up. It was stupid and peaceful like this. The irony was one he’d always attempted ignorance of.

But that didn’t matter, necessarily. Or he couldn’t let it, right now. The Guard escorted them inside, leading them through a modest entranceway. Burgundy carpet, a hallway that stretched for some meters until splitting in either direction. Lights glowed on the walls to either side, though it seemed brighter than usual, and wasn’t that pecu –

His mask. Uh, duh. His mask had always filtered the light, which was useful outside but kind of annoying in places like  _ Star Killer _ , but it  _ had _ been important to keep up appearances. Appearances which, he realized, he was doing a very bad job of upholding right now. He wore: a black tunic that sagged, black leggings, and the same boots; he didn’t own any other shoes. His lightsaber hung on his belt, swinging a little as he walked. Practically padawan’s clothes.

He became very aware of the fact that Hux was still in full uniform – minus the dinky little hat. And the Guard, of course, in full armor. But his robes, his cloak, his helmet: these were all the decorations of a time with control, purpose, clarity. This was not that.

He walked into the Guard.

They both stumbled, and irritation flared, and Hux probably found this very funny, and everything felt tilted, and there was nothing he could do because – oh, because they were at Snoke’s chambers. He straightened himself out again but didn’t bother to apologize. Or glance at Hux.

The doors here looked the same as everywhere else. A bench sat to one side. The guard turned to them.

“Wait here,” came the mechanical voice, though it was probably feminine.

_ As if we have anything else to be doing _ , thought Kylo.

Hux held his arms behind his back, chin upwards. At attention. Or Kylo thought so, anyway. He’d never had a military education, and though he’d learned enough over the past few years, he’d never cared enough to ask Hux or anyone else about how any of this really worked. Hux ran a hand through his ginger hair. It was normally carefully slicked back, but Kylo guessed he hadn’t had time to do that, or there hadn’t been gel on the ship so it kept falling out of place. He glanced at Kylo, then back around the room.

They stayed like that for, he didn’t know, maybe ten minutes more? He was bad with time. Eventually, though, Kylo plopped down on the bench, leaning his head back against the wall. He eyed Hux with forced casualness, and Hux returned this with a derisive glare.

“What?” Kylo snorted, “He’s not going to kill me for sitting down.”  _ He already knows _ , he wanted to add but didn’t.

Hux only turned his eyes back ahead.

The Guard returned, slipping through the door so that neither of them had a chance to see inside.

“Supreme Leader Snoke has requested to see you first,” the Guard said, indicating Hux.

Hux grew unnaturally still. He gave the slightest nod that human anatomy was likely capable of, and followed the Guard back through the doors. Kylo sighed once they were gone.

For the first time since… he didn’t know how long, actually. A few days, he guessed, or a week. But for the first time since he’d been on Jakku, he had a moment to think. Normally he hated this; his thoughts were too loud and he could never focus. But now, he found he welcomed it.

He scratched at his side and lifted up his tunic to see. There were bandages, of course, but he peeled them away, sticky with bacta, and an angry red gash greeted him, barely put together now. Green, turning to yellow and brown, bloomed around it, a sickly contrast to his grossly pale skin. It would leave a scar if he wanted it to. He thought that maybe he did. Lightsabers immediately cauterized a wound, so there hadn’t been any blood when he’d ignited his through my father. So this was like –

Gods, Kylo could his father’s hands on his face still. Clammy, grasping, pathetic. And the way he’d looked at him… Kylo shook his head. He’d talk about this with Snoke, or figure it out later.

He poked at the healing wound and winced, hissing quietly. He tried again, now with just the pads of his fingers. It was a little mountain chain rising, trailing from near his navel to his rib cage. He remembered how he’d hit at it, trying to keep his endorphins flowing and his attachment to the dark side strong. He’d probably looked like an absolute maniac to that former Stormtrooper and the other one, the girl.

What even was her –

The door was swinging open again.

He rewrapped the bandages in record time and pulled his shirt back down. The Guard came first, Hux behind. He stared ahead, and his movements were jerky as if he was putting conscious effort into walking. Hux looked at him as he passed, and Kylo had never seen his eyes so vacant. The Guard-general combo continued past him. Hux was presumably being led to his quarters, which was fine since Kylo knew where everything was already anyway.

He pushed open the door. With his physical hand, of all things.

Inside was the same design aesthetic as everything else here; more dark carpets, more bare walls. The lights, a warm yellow outside, were red here. The energy, stagnant but more or less natural outside of these rooms, was not the same, however. It felt gross, sort of like how sweat smelled.

The area immediately inside the door led off to three rooms. This part of the building was Snoke’s living quarters -- though exactly what that entailed even Kylo didn’t know -- plus a room he sent transmissions from, plus a small reception/meeting-type room.

He walked to the middle door, the meeting room one, and it slid open. It was dimmer still. A table that could project holocrons sat in the middle. There were no chairs. Snoke stood at the far end, gazing evenly at Kylo.

He’d known Snoke, visually, since he was pretty young – over twenty-five years, at this point. And in all that time, Snoke had never changed, at least not that he could tell. He was nine feet tall, maybe taller, which was weird to Kylo now that he himself towered over most people. And he was  _ pale _ ; not like Hux or himself, because yes, they were pretty pasty. But Snoke was, say, actually white. Kylo didn’t really know  _ what _ Snoke was, but he seemed old. Kylo thought he might’ve been handsome when he was younger, but as it stood, he was wrinkled, beady-eyed, and he had a large valley of a scar running down the side of his face so that half of it sort of slumped. He wore golden robes -- an ugly and vainglorious contrast to his wrinkled skin -- and glided across the floor more than walked.

It was all pretty intimidating, Kylo had to admit, and if he hadn’t been so familiar with Snoke, he might’ve been nervous. Like Hux had been. This had probably, it occurred to Kylo, been their first time meeting in person.

“Master,” Kylo said, kneeling, eyes turned deferentially downwards.

“Kylo,” Snoke greeted.

It had been a few years since Kylo had last seen Snoke this way. He thought it was odd not to be staring up at a twenty-meter projection of him. Though this was closer to the original way they’d met, and there was a sort of nostalgia in that. And sometimes Kylo allowed himself to feel it.

“Do you believe I’ve brought you here to punish you?”

“Yes,” Kylo admitted. “I don’t think that’s the  _ only  _ reason, but I assumed it was one of them. I apologize, Master, if my assumptions were –”

Snoke was holding up his hand.

“Do you believe any of the recent events were your fault?”

“Yes,” he said, “Yes, I do. I – the Stormtrooper. The one who defected and I think had to have helped them. I noticed, back on Jakku, that he was –” He took a breath, and glanced up at Snoke. He was waiting. “He’s sensitive. I don’t know why I didn’t do anything then. Because that lead to…” They both knew what that had lead to. He shifted. “Other than that, I don’t know what I could’ve done differently. I honestly believed we had a better chance of finding the map with the girl than with the droid. I assumed it would be more –”

“I know,” Snoke finished for him. “I assumed so too.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows at this; that was what he had most expected to be scolded for, even with the half-truth version he was spinning. That’s what Hux had certainly scolded him for, when he had been half alive as the  _ Finalizer  _ took them to the Outer Rim. Hux, of course, had known it was foolish to prioritize things as Kylo had; and Kylo, of course, was a kriffing idiot for constantly putting his personal battles before those of the First Order. Hux had spent no shortage of breath elaborating on those points over the past few days.

“While some of the failure is certainly yours --” Kylo frowned; even with the admission, being told he was wrong was agitating -- “after speaking with him, I believe his mistakes were certainly more severe.”

Snoke paused, watching. Kylo stared back, trying not to give anything away, even though that was kind of pointless.

“Did Hux tell you why I’ve brought you here?”

“No, Master,” Kylo spat, “you told me, of course, but he kept…  _ lying _ . Alluding the question or acting aloof, like he would escape this without punishment and I would --”

Anger – warm, familiar anger – bloomed inside Kylo. His fists clenched, and without the gloves he normally wore, he felt his nails dig into his palms. It felt good.

And Snoke was still just watching him with those unnervingly round, dark eyes of his.

“He  _ lied  _ to me,” Kylo seethed. “Probably because he knew he’d fucked up, so he had to make me feel like I did too. He calls me a child but he --”

His breathing was heavy now, and his eyes bored into Snoke, waiting. Snoke was still waiting for him. Waiting for him to say the right thing. He didn’t know what that was, but he decided on the only thing he could think. He stood and continued.

“I hate him,” he said, knowing how childish it sounded. “I hate him, Master. I’ve hated him every day since the first day you made me work with him. I --” he took a breath – “I want to kill him. I’ve wanted to --”

Snoke interrupted, “We shall begin the final phase of your training with this.”

“I…” Kylo closed his mouth, licked his lips. This was -- “You’d actually let me… I mean, he isn’t...?”

Snoke stared back at him.

“Okay,” Kylo said.

Understanding, he nodded, kneeling back down in front of Snoke. He closed his eyes.

“Okay, Master,” he said.

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo didn’t see  Hux again until the next morning. He guessed it was morning, anyway. The chrono on the wall of his bedroom here indicated morning hours, but the planet was, as ever, in a perpetual late evening gloom. Maybe that was fitting, in an ironic sort of way, but he thought that if it was then he was tired of all this light symbolism bullshit. He’d already proved that he was --

He noticed his hand was touching his cheek, some sort of ugly phantom recreation. He shook it, as if it was painful, as he walked into the kitchen. The kitchen had the normal assortment of appliances, countertops, whatever. As ever, there were no windows, only the dim half-light given by some lamps inset in the ceiling. There was a single table -- durasteel, ugly, practical -- in the middle.

Hux was seated there, looking at something on a datapad. He was dressed more loosely than Kylo had ever seen, having shirked the top layers of his uniform in favor of only the simple black collared shirt underneath. Maybe part of him already sensed he wouldn’t be a general anymore, and so he was enjoying the temporary freedom. Kylo thought too, as he poured himself a cup of caf, that they sort of matched now. He sat down across from Hux.

“Morning, Armitage,” he greeted. “What’re you working on?”

“Don’t call me that,” Hux replied, not looking up from his work.

“Mm, whatever,” Kylo said, taking a sip of the caf. He grimaced; he’d always hated this shit, but he was tired and needed not to be. “I just don’t see why you don’t like it. It’s a pretty enough name. The only thing about you that is, really.”

Hux glanced up at him, gaze withering, like one a parent might use to scold a child.

“I would have thought someone like you would be able to understand this,” he said, tone barbed.

“Whatever do you mean, Armitage?” Kylo asked lightly. He put on a wide-eyed, innocent look for effect, and it felt absolutely bizarre. If he was even capable of performing it correctly.

“Well,  _ Ben _ , I just seem to remember that --”

Hux gasped, the sudden heat at his neck an effective silencer. They stared at each other for a moment.

“Are we clear?”

Hux nodded, the smallest jerk of his head, as much as he apparently felt was safe. Kylo released the pressure, and Hux gasped.

“I, but you --” Hux sputtered. His face grew a little red. “You can’t just -- Supreme Leader wouldn’t let you!”

Kylo shrugged.

“I guess not,” he agreed. “I take it your conversation with Snoke went well, then?”

“ _ What _ ? I… yes. It did,” Hux said, apparently remembering himself. He sat up straighter. “Not that it’s any of  _ your  _ business, but Supreme Leader was quite understanding. He informed me we would have more to discuss, but in a week’s time I would be back aboard the  _ Finalizer _ while you remained here, or perhaps aboard the  _ Supremacy _ .”

Hux’s look practically oozed smugness, and Kylo had to restrain himself from just killing Hux there and then. It would be more satisfying to wait, he forced himself to remember.

“How nice for you,” Kylo said, “And you forgot to tell me about that, by the way. Why I was coming here.”

“Ah, yes,” Hux said, returning to his work. “My apologies, for my lapse in memory.”

“ _ Right _ ,” Kylo said, narrowing his eyes. “Well, whatever. It needed to happen anyway.”

“So what about you, then?” Hux asked. “You seem to be your normal, endearing self.”

Kylo gave him an overly-sweet smile, and said, imitating his stupid accent, “None of your business, actually.”

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo was meditating in his bedroom when Snoke came in. He opened his eyes, watched Snoke glide through the doors, allowed himself to relax. Snoke stood in front of him and he stood up.

“Master,” he said.

“That was a passable start.”

He felt anger flare, deep inside him, at being told anything he did was just  _ passable _ , but he pushed it down.

“Did he tell you?” Kylo asked, “Or did you just --” Snoke shared a feeling through their bond. “Oh, okay.”

“How did it feel?” Snoke asked him.

“You already know that.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“It was… good,” he said, “I’d wanted to threaten him like that for years.”

_ And by the way, it’s not like that was the first time he ever used my other name. _

“Good,” Snoke said.

Snoke stared at him, and he stared back. He licked his lips, looked at his feet, back up at Snoke.

“Master?”

“Yes, Kylo?”

He shook his head, looking to the side.

“I was just thinking that --”

He paused, looking purposefully at Snoke. Confusion, minimal as any expression on Snoke was, crossed his face. Kylo projected an image into Snoke’s mind and continued.

“He told me that you told him that he’d be gone by the end of the week.”

“Perhaps. If he can reprove his trustworthiness.”

“Yeah,” Kylo agreed,“But… who knows how long that might take?”

“Indeed,” Snoke said.

“How far should I push this?” Kylo asked.

“You are aware, by now, that it will not be public,” Snoke told him. He nodded; that had become obvious enough. “Then act as you feel. I want to see what you can do.”

“Yes, Master. But uh, back to what I was thinking?”

“Yes?”

“It’s just that, you taught me so much, but you haven’t ever really  _ seen  _ me work, have you? Not recently anyway. And, of course, your training has been invaluable, but… I’m interested to see what you think, I suppose.”

“As am I.”

“Right,” Kylo said, nodding, “alright. Speaking of, how did my meditation seem to you?”

“To me, it seemed that --”

And he felt Hux slip away from the door.

 

*       *       *

 

There were a lot of implications for what this might mean for his future, Kylo thought as he sat across from Hux and ate dinner. Thus far, he’d just sort of been an enforcer, of sorts, for the First Order. He participated in battles where he was relevant (or when he wanted to); he tortured or intimidated people when no one else could do it (or when he wanted to). He hunted down other force users, took what he could from them, and killed them. It was kind of like what his grandfather had done, he thought for the millionth time with secret satisfaction, though he’d had less authority. Darth Vader had been allowed to make strategic decisions -- which he had too, to an extent -- but it wasn’t really the same. Despite his, well, obsession, he’d purposefully kept away from that sort of leadership role.

Kylo thought now, though, that maybe Snoke was pushing him towards that. He wasn’t sure what more Snoke had to teach him, or what it could possibly be used for, if not that. He knew by now, though, from conversations with the force ghost of his grandfather, that more training in the dark side had always coincided with an increase in responsibility for him. Snoke wasn’t interested in trying to copy the Empire, but they both knew why he hadn’t given Kylo any official rank beside.

He did want more power, but in the part of his brain that was so secret, so tucked away that Snoke wasn’t even aware anything was hidden from him, he felt like he was wasting his time. He squashed the thought and focused on Hux.

He was just finishing eating, and he looked up at Kylo. Kylo noticed his hair was back to its perfect state. He told himself he’d have to find his products tonight and dispose of them.

“What?” Hux snapped.

Kylo looked at him like he was crazy.

“Nothing, jeez,” he said. “Hi to you too.”

“What do you want, Kylo?”

“ _ Nothing _ , Armitage,” he said. Hux tensed, and Kylo felt the spike of anger mixed with fear, automatically associated after this morning. “I was just going to ask how you were doing, but nevermind I guess.”

Hux rolled his eyes.

“Not that it’s any of your -- I don’t know why you  _ care _ . You never have. Now --” he stood up -- “if you’ll excuse me, I have work that needs attending to.”

He made to leave. Kylo watched him, and before Hux had crossed the kitchen threshold, Kylo said, his voice heavy with the Force, “Don’t lie to me. How are you actually feeling?”

Hux stopped, turning around. He appeared to debate with himself, but his eyes grew wild with fear.

“I’m terrified,” he told Kylo. “And enraged.”

“Why?”

“I overheard you and Supreme Leader talking. I’m afraid that you might have permission to do whatever you want to me, now. I’m apparently supposed to reprove my loyalty to the First Order, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that. And it angers me. I have given my whole life to this, and this --”

“That’s enough,” Kylo told him, and he shut up. Hux blinked.

He shouted, “What was --”

“Don’t lie to me again,” Kylo said, holding up his palm, his fingers slightly curled. The pressure was light, but he knew Hux had felt it when his hands shot to his throat. “If you do, I will know. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” he managed.

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo walked out in the middle of that night -- or what the chrono on his comm said was the middle -- and into Hux’s room.

The planet didn’t have a real night, but without any windows, everything was still oppressively dark. His eyes took a second to adjust, but he saw that Hux was sprawled, ugly and unaware, and it seemed funny to him. If they’d both been teenagers, this was the sort of thing he would’ve taken a holo of. Not that he’d ever actually done that; he’d just heard from others that that was a thing people did.

He stood at the foot of the bed.

_ Okay _ , he told himself.

Kylo reached out, slipping into Hux’s mind. It was easier when people were asleep, and Hux didn’t have good mental barriers to begin with anyway. He was dreaming about something -- Kylo didn’t care enough to actually look -- but he carded around, searching until he found --

It was a memory, some physical hurt or violation, and Kylo inspected it, turned it over, felt along its edges. It had the gnarled, fuzzy feeling that trauma always did, because Hux guarded it, because he never thought about it. Kylo wouldn’t necessarily have guessed, but if there was one thing he’d learned from all these years of intruding into people’s minds, it was that everyone had something or other like this.

He took it and presented it as a suggestion to Hux’s dreamscape. You didn’t really have to do more than that, Kylo thought with satisfaction, since the mind was always more than capable of supplying the rest. He stepped to the side of the bed to watch.

Hux frowned, flipped over so that he was facing Kylo. He curled in on himself and his face contorted grotesquely. Kylo felt his rising panic; heard his breath quicken. He twisted, moaned lightly, opened his eyes. Kylo realized he was bent over slightly, anticipatory. His hands hung loosely at his sides, and he gazed passively at Hux. His eyes were cloudy, attempting to focus, and then his brain registered that Kylo was there.

Hux’s eyes shot open, drowning in the white. Kylo could still feel Hux’s heart racing, but it picked up now.

“Wh--”

Kylo pushed Hux’s mind back into sleep, which was sort of like stuffing a pillow into a pillowcase that was too small for it, and he slumped over again.

It occurred to Kylo that he’d have to be careful now, since he and Hux were connected by the Force, in a way. If only through greater familiarity. He could make the link stronger, and it would mean he would have automatic access to all of Hux’s thoughts and feelings. But too strong, and there was also the possibility that they might begin to mix with his own. He’d done it once, accidentally, when he was eighteen. He could still remember the pain and shock when he’d beaten the girl it was with half to death, only to realize he was just as terrified as she was. It was probably the only time he’d ever knowingly experienced Force empathy, and he never wanted to again.

But this probably wasn’t something he really needed to worry about, he told himself. He didn’t really  _ need  _ a stronger connection for his purposes, and he felt disgusting enough as it was, being only this connected to him.

Hux had been angry when he’d realized Kylo was watching him. That was fine. That was what Kylo expected. There had been fear too, though, just tugging at the edges of his consciousness, and by the end of this game, Kylo intended for that to be all he felt.

He turned to leave, stopped, watched Hux’s troubled breathing and considered. He shrugged and he knelt, rifling through Hux’s bag until he found a bottle that appeared to be some sort of hair product. He tested it, found he was right, and grinned stupidly.

And then he slipped back into his own room.

 

*       *       *

 

The next morning, Kylo decided to take a walk into the forest surrounding the building. He realized he hadn’t gone outside at all the previous day, and that it was kind of stuffy, and that there was a whole, wild, uninhabited planet for him to be alone in.

Kylo hated confinement of any kind, and so the forest was a welcome reprieve. Broad, murky trunks stretched up to greet a canopy of splattered, mottled greens. Smaller animals flitted and climbed and swung high above, observing, Kylo assumed, what he was. Some of them screamed or cried out, warning their companions, he supposed, which was sort of funny to him.

He was following the packed dirt trail of something that lived here, something that, peculiarly, didn’t leave any energies in its wake. Even with this phantom path, he found himself pushing through dense, creaking undergrowth, low-hanging branches. It was dark here too, of course, which only further complicated his task, even if he found it comfortable. He could’ve used the Force, or even his lightsaber, to make his path easier, but he felt he didn’t have the heart for it right now.

Not for the first time, Kylo remembered, as he wove his way through the underbrush, how he’d done the same so many years ago, as a child. He remembered balmy, peaceful days, a complete ignorance to the turmoil of the rest of the galaxy. The way the Chandrilan forests had acted as a nest, a cocoon, as a naive, fair-haired boy had explored, testing his fledgling Force powers. How that boy had dreamed of being a Jedi, a hero, and had believed he loved his family. It seemed odd to him, that that was a part of the same life he was now living, but he knew it was. It made his stomach turn.

He discovered, he didn’t know how far into the forest, a cave of barren earth and sullen light. He stepped inside, thinking to rest a moment. On the far side, about four stride-lengths from him sat a large boulder. Kylo made his way to it. It was like crossing some barrier, some threshold, and he recognized this place then for what it was. A place where the forest didn’t dare to grow, a place where forlorn and caustic energies drained whatever was foolish enough to enter here.

He knew it because suddenly the world didn’t feel so alien anymore. The Force here was wilder than his own, less structured, but it was kindred, and so he knew it still.

He sat on the rock, puzzling this over. Tragedy could taint the Force this way. Perhaps some dead feral infant or visiting murder had done this. It could be forced into this as well, twisted beyond the gentle apathy of the natural world. Though that left the question, of course -- to what end? That wasn’t something he could answer. And a third possibility: some places were naturally like this.

He sat, comfortable and restless with this familiarity until he felt Snoke approaching. Snoke stood at the edge -- but did not enter -- the clearing.

“Are you really here?” Kylo asked him.

Snoke stared evenly at him.

“Right,” Kylo said.

Snoke crossed and stood in front of Kylo. Kylo stared up at him.

“We should discuss what occurred aboard the  _ Starkiller _ .”

Kylo raised his eyebrows.

“With my father?” he asked, and his voice was shakier than he would’ve liked.

“Yes.”

Kylo didn’t really want to talk about it with him -- he didn’t want to talk about much of anything with him anymore, he realized, before he could stop himself -- but he felt desperate, too, just to tell someone about it. He took a breath.

“You didn’t just go through my head already?”

Snoke was silent a moment, and Kylo wondered if it was the fringe on disrespect that had done it.

“Not for something this important,” Snoke answered.

“Alright,” Kylo considered. “Well. He represented everything I never wanted to be, every failing of character I could imagine. More than my mother or uncle, as you know, but that’s still pretty close. I hadn’t seen him for almost ten years. I wasn’t the person he thought I was then, and I still don’t know if that person ever existed. But now I’m more obviously not his stupid, pathetic son more than ever, and when I met him, and when he told me to pull my helmet off -- he didn’t believe me. Didn’t  _ see _ me. Even then.”

He felt, then, the connection to the most basic, ingrained rage he knew, and it drove him to continue.

“And I’d been fantasizing, concretely, since you’d told me I’d see him. About every step I would take, and I thought I knew what would hurt the most. And I made him believe that my conflict was over being good, and some rational part of me knew, as I struggled to stay calm as he foolishly believed me, because he so desperately  _ wanted  _ to believe me -- well part of me knew that he’d never really done anything so offensive. None of them have.

“But he tried to kill me. That was in the non-believing. None of them ever wanted what I actually am. So I remembered that, and I remembered how I’m  _ better  _ than him, just for being in control, even then, and I felt powerful and righteous as I killed him. And he was too stupid to believe, even in the very end, that I would.”

He’d been looking down, arms draped over his knees, but he looked up at Snoke now. His face betrayed nothing, but it was long past the day when Kylo actually feared what Snoke might do if he said the wrong thing. Still, Snoke was waiting for him to say more.

Kylo continued, “I felt badly, some part of me. I still don’t know why. I haven’t felt any remorse or guilt for so long, not even when I’ve let myself feel everything they feel when they die because of me. But him -- I honestly don’t know. But the way I horrified the girl and that Stormtrooper felt good, and the way I know the Wookie felt at seeing this was good too. I know my mother felt it, somewhere. Probably my uncle too. But of course I couldn’t feel them, though I wished I could. The reactions are… they’re what matters. So in some way, my father’s feelings of betrayal and pain were clear and I understood them. But… not as I would have liked. I wanted his anger, I think.”

“Would you kill her too, if I gave you the opportunity?”

He blinked at Snoke, confused.

 

*       *       *

 

Boredom.

Boredom, second only to anger, was the most identifiable emotion Kylo knew within himself. It was a disease, a poison, slowly eating away at him. It had always been this way for him. And the only cure he’d ever known? Control. Over other living things. To tap into all the pain and anger, and impose it with clarity, purity, purpose, upon another being. To know he was ruining them. To know  _ they  _ knew he was the one responsible, and that there was absolutely nothing they could do about it.

This wasn’t that.

He’d been sitting on the floor, legs crossed, watching Hux, for maybe an hour now. His cheek rested on his fist, propped up on his elbow. Hux was… Kylo didn’t know, looking at his datapad now? Really, Hux was just sitting across from him, upon his bed. His eyes vacant, glazed, staring off at some imaginary horizon.

Sighing, he showed Hux’s mind a bed, the feeling of blankets. Hux’s body posture relaxed slightly, in one of the only responses it could give right now. Concentrating on the idea a little more than the others, Kylo suggested the idea of insomnia, of restless, frustrating nights, and stood up. He began to pace in the small, bare room.

He’d never forced someone to hallucinate for this long before, and at first, the idea had seemed interesting. He’d played with people’s perceptions before, of course; mental manipulation of reality was a mainstay of torture for him. But usually, it didn’t take so long, and it was  _ so  _ much more exciting than this. Hux was just sitting there, going through his days on whatever boring planet this was, sure that he’d be off it soon enough.

_ Okay, so _ . Kylo mentally mapped it out.  _ He’s been through one day so far. One more, then he should leave. _

And after that, that’s when things would get interesting. That’s when the possibilities really opened up.

_ This time… he won’t leave. He’ll be here for an extra week. Then he’ll die,  _ Kylo decided.

The next day took less time to create because Hux’s mind already knew what the imposition of the first one felt like. Seconds, minutes (hours, days) passed, and Kylo walked back to the bed. He stood over Hux, watching.

Hux had begun to sweat, to shake. He was frowning. A sharp sort of barking noise came from his mouth. Kylo leaned forward, crossing his arms. And then Hux began to scream, the stupid coward, and Kylo yanked him back into the present.

Rolling his eyes, Kylo said, “Will you  _ shut up _ ? Some of us are trying to meditate here.”

Hux breathed heavily, his eyes wildly searching the room.

“I – you –  _ what _ ?”

Kylo shook his head.

“Seriously?”

“I –”

Hux straightened himself, and Kylo was, despite himself, impressed at how quickly he was able to regain composure.

Kylo looked at him, impassive.

“Well, try to be quieter next time,” he snapped and stalked out of the room.

 

*       *       *

 

Hux’s screams were fascinating. He had, as a career military person, learned discipline, the art of suffocating and suppressing your emotions. Even before he’d really joined the First Order or the fragmented, inconceivable thing it had been before that. His father had instilled these traits into Hux, and Hux, despite any resentment toward the man, had stuck as stringently to them as he could for his entire adult life.

Kylo had learned this, not because Hux had put sudden trust in Kylo, but rather because Kylo had been searching and probing through Hux’s mind.

He liked to do this, whenever he had more time with his victims. Kylo liked to try and learn what compelled, motivated, horrified, delighted, and etcetera the people placed in his torture chambers. A metaphorical torture chamber, this time, an entire planet, Kylo mused, late in the evening.

Anyway, he did this, he knew, because people were such a mystery to him. He didn’t understand them. When he’d been a boy, a teenager, a little older, he’d had a friend. His only childhood friend, actually, that had later developed into something more, kind-of-not-really. This other boy, now other man – tan, beautiful, perfect to the world – had understood people. Poe had gotten it too well, except with Kylo, but that was okay. But he’d spent long hours attempting to explain, in very simple terms, what people felt and why. Kylo had only ever felt stupid, and he’d absolutely resented this. And his parents had been piss-poor examples, and his uncle had only ever half-heartedly tried, it seemed, and he was too compassionate to recognize the danger in not trying any harder.

But the thing about his method was, he didn’t  _ need  _ to deeply understand how people worked for them to be effective. Everyone responded to terror magnified beyond belief. Everyone responded to the despair of knowing that someone else was entirely in control of their continued existence. Everyone responded to the fact that there was no escape unless he allowed there to be, and most seemed to understand that he enjoyed this too much to ever allow it.

No escape besides death, of course.

And that brought him back to Hux. Hux displayed, always, the emotions expected of a general. 

Nothing more and nothing less.

There was something intensely satisfying, overwhelming and heady, each time he pulled out, with agonizing care, a scream from Hux’s lips. Kylo was shaking, staring with wide eyes. The release was immediate, startlingly good, as the newest shriek came from Hux. Kylo sighed, gazing with calm eyes at Hux’s now blank, comatose face.

This had been his newest machination in a series of many. Kylo had lost track at this point. He was certain he may have repeated scenarios at least once or twice, but that didn’t matter because Hux’s mind couldn’t necessarily tell the difference.

Dark circles had appeared under Hux’s reddened eyes, and facial hair had begun to force its way through his skin. His hair was already matted and oily. He probably smelled, too, but Kylo wasn’t inclined to check. Kylo wouldn’t have guessed how quickly and easily Hux would be undone.

He was too good at this, he thought with an indulgent smile.

In addition, Hux was, despite appearances, really a very weak person. Even the worthless scavenger girl from Jakku had had more wherewithal than Hux had shown.

Hux’s mind was idling, at this point waiting for Kylo to tell it what to do. Kylo stood and stretched. He’d been sitting on the bed next to Hux, because the floor was hard, and he wasn’t sure where he would be allowed to take a chair from.

He walked back to his room, directly next to Hux’s and looked out the window. He stared out at the forest beyond. Something large and furry stood just past the tree line, eating the grass. It froze, noticed Kylo was watching it, and sprinted back into the cover of the forest. When he was younger, he knew he would’ve Force-pulled it back to him, tortured it, killed it for doing that.

He turned back around, returning to Hux again. He sighed, low, long, turning to a hum. He checked his comm. He hadn’t spoken to Snoke for a couple days now. Neither of them had even touched their Force bond in that time, Kylo realized. He wasn’t really sure why he was being given such a long leash, but whatever. He felt too tired to really attempt to question Snoke anymore.

He almost considered communicating with Snoke, almost allowed the tendrils of his mind to wrap around their bond, when he realized he was bored again. That’s what it was. He was tired of imagining new ways for Hux to die, tired of screams that came only from an imagined death.

He needed more. He didn’t know what else; he’d need time to think of it.

He stood in front of Hux, fingers tapping one after the other on his thighs, and pulled Hux out of his trance. He wasn’t gentle, of course. Hux was gasping, eyes blown even wider, then blinking and grimacing when he realized they were dry. He looked around him, head swinging frantically from side to side until he realized Kylo was standing before him.

There was no expression for a moment. And then anger, glaring, directed up at Kylo. Apparently, Hux knew.

_ Hmm _ .

Kylo looked evenly back at Hux, who had begun trying to rasp something. Kylo shrugged, turned toward the door, and Hux was now attempting to yell. Kylo opened the door, and Hux was attempting to stand. Kylo closed the door, and Hux took a staggering, faltering stride before falling to his knees. Kylo locked the door with the Force and told Snoke he’d done so. There was no response. What he’d done was fine, then. Good, since it wasn’t the first time.

Kylo left, and he stared at the blazing, muted, forever-dying twilight all around him. He started towards the trees, wind blowing his hair back. He felt young; he felt like finding what had run.

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo was thinking about when he and Hux had first met.

He didn’t often get to kill someone he knew, but whenever he did, he liked to remember his relation to them. It had started with the first person he’d ever slain, a childhood bully. That death had been half-accidental, but he’d been thinking about how much he hated the kid before anyways. From there it had just sort of become a thing he did. And besides, just like the first time, it was a good motivator.

At any rate, Kylo was thinking that he was soon to be thirty-one, which meant his total, complete, and overt transition to the dark side had occurred almost seven years ago now. (He sighed at that: the Force could extend your life a good deal, but he supposed you never stopped feeling  _ old _ .) He could remember the first time he stepped aboard the  _ Finalizer _ , only a week after he’d killed the other padawans with his Knights, and their betrayed screams had still been very fresh.

He could remember a buzzed sort of anxiety, because that had been  _ it _ , stepping through the threshold was admitting what he’d been working towards with Snoke’s help, it was being transparently obvious about the choice he was making, even if almost no one in the First Order would really know who he was. His cape was not yet burnt. It still took him a moment to remember that when someone said “Kylo Ren”, or “Lord Ren”, or just “Ren”, they were talking to him.

Hux hadn’t been a general then. Kylo had met him as he was taken to tour the  _ Finalizer  _ by another officer. He still remembered the way all the officers, and even the Stormtroopers, had turned to watch, to  _ stare _ at, the black-robed wraith on his first jaunt through the halls of the star destroyer. Some of them were unnerved. Well, why not? Every academy graduate – every brainwashed child, even – knew about Darth Vader. The idea filled him with an indescribable joy, and he used just a tinge of the Force to magnify their anxieties. He had felt, then, that he was done trying to connect with other human beings.

Hux’s reaction had been different. Hux had been seated at a control desk, one which overlooked the hanger where ships of various make and model – though mainly TIE fighters – were held. He’d been looking at a chart or something when the officer, the one who had shown Kylo around, and whose name Kylo no longer remembered, had spoken.

“This is Commander Armitage Hux.”

Hux had spun around, instantly at full attention.

“Sir,” he’d said.

The first thing that had struck Kylo about Hux was just how much he  _ oozed  _ Imperialism. An explanation: they were the First Order now, okay, alright, but it was all sort of the same thing to Kylo. And though Kylo knew who he was allying himself with, he didn’t  _ believe  _ in it or anything. He didn’t particularly care about which way the galaxy went, about any greater good or order, only ever his own position. (The dark side was important, to be sure, but the dark side would be around no matter what he or anyone else did.) Since the Jedi Order and the Resistance would not allow him power or identity, he’d chosen the Knights of Ren and the First Order. And as crazy as it all seemed, it really was as simple as that.

“This is Kylo Ren,” the officer had said, and Hux’s eyes had lifted to him, to where his eyes were under his mask, and Hux’s eyes were full of indifference. The man had continued, “He’s a Knight of Ren. Supreme Leader has decided that, for the time being, you two shall work together.”

Kylo’s brows had risen at that. Snoke hadn’t told him about this, but he hadn’t thought it was his place to question it, anyways.

“On what, Sir?” Hux had asked, the tiniest bit of annoyance creeping into his tone.

His voice had taken on that stupid, forced curl Hux probably thought made him sound very authoritative, very smart.

“On hunting other Force users, amongst other things, I’d expect,” he’d said. “Your orders haven’t –”

“It’ll be that,” Kylo had interrupted.

All the other Knights had been in various parts of the galaxy at the time, doing the same, but Kylo knew none of the others had been set to work so closely with the First Order.

They’d both stared at him. His vocoder still seemed bizarre to him then, and he was distracted by it for a moment. They were waiting for him to explain, though he didn’t really feel like it.

Instead, he said, “You don’t want to be on this assignment with me.”

Hux had glared, only an ever so slight pinching of his eyelids.

“I would be honored to take whatever assignments Supreme Leader sees fit to give to me,” he’d answered.

Kylo had snorted, “Of course you will. Only good soldiers have a chance at becoming generals, after all.” Hux’s mouth had hung slightly open, and the officer had glanced nervously at Kylo, but Kylo had continued, “I don’t really care if you do or don’t want to do this. It doesn’t matter to me, and it matters only slightly to Snoke. I don’t know why he would’ve chosen  _ you  _ of all people, but then again, that’s not something for even me to really question.”

Maybe things would have been smoothed over, but the officer had received a message on his comm and had had to go see to whatever the problem was. He’d excused himself, saying he’d be back to take Kylo to his quarters, and leaving Kylo and Hux, well, together.

“Huh,” Hux had said.

Kylo had looked at him, then around, waiting for Hux to continue. Other officers were busy with their own tasks at their own stations, and there was a low hum, a  _ click-clacking  _ of keys and the like. A Stormtrooper came with a message for a woman a few meters from them and left again.

Finally, Hux had commented, dryly, “You certainly have a way of making an introduction.”

Kylo had wished Hux could’ve seen the withering look he’d shot, but said, “Excuse me that I’m not versed in proper First Order etiquette.”

“Clearly not,” Hux had said. “Where were you before this?”

“What do you mean?”

“What were you doing before this, I suppose.”

Kylo had paused, uncertain if the business with the Jedi was supposed to be a secret or not. Well, Snoke hadn’t told him not to tell anyone, and word would get around eventually, and he and Hux were supposed to work together,  _ so _ …

“Being a Jedi.”

Hux’s brows had raised.

“Really? Then you were involved with…” Hux had gestured vaguely.

“You were told about that?”

Kylo had cursed himself for being such a child. But. Well. Hux had nodded.

“Debriefed, a few days ago. We were told someone like you might be joining us.” Hux had glanced around the room, then back to him. “So you…”

“Yes,” Kylo had said, and it had felt good to admit to it.

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo was staring at his own face. He stood in the refresher, looking at the mirror, looking at himself. He saw his hand reach up, tentative, pressing on the fat, red line that sat there. It was scratchy from the scab, the old one that was most of it, and the small bit that had just formed, near his right nostril.

He’d walked for a time, then had sat who-knew-how far away by who-knew-which stream. At first, he really had tried to find the animal he’d seen or something else like it. But after a while, he realized he was sweating, hungry and thirsty since he hadn’t eaten anything yet today. And then he’d just sort of forgotten.

But he’d sat, watching the water flow by, thinking oddly of his childhood again. Thinking that he could think of any planet he’d been on as a child and the streams there, and maybe some experiences by them. In forests on Chandrila or Yavin-4 (where Poe had lived), artificial ones on Coruscant or Hosnian Prime (Jedi business, Senate business), long-dried ones on Tattooine, ones made of cascading snow on Hoth, ones that covered the entire world on long-forgotten ancient Jedi planets, but they’d never been able to find those. Going somewhere, doing something, always.

He shook his head. He could go crazy like that. Maybe he should meditate.

But then he’d thought about Hux.

He’d scrunched up his face, just for the movement, and had felt a resistance there. He’d felt at his cheek, and there was a hard sort of line, and he’d picked at it a bit until it had hurt, and then he’d remembered what it was. How the girl – and seriously, this would’ve been so much simpler if he’d just gotten her  _ name _ , but people rarely thought of their own names inside their own minds – had cut him. And then he’d wanted to look at it.

So now he stood here, staring in wonder at the forming scar. It started just above his right eyebrow, towards the inside end of it, cutting through the hair. It traveled due south from there, traversing over his eyelid. His eye was sort of milky, probably from the heat of his – hers – his  _ family’s _ – lightsaber.  _ That  _ lightsaber. He hadn’t been able to see out of the eye for the first day or so; it had just been sort of murky, gray shapes, but it must’ve been getting better. It would probably look normal again, eventually.

After his eyes, the scar continued its march in a nearly straight line, coming to an end near his jaw.

So.

He knew, from conversations with the Force ghost of his grandfather, that Anakin/Vader had had a small scar on the outer edge of his right eye. He’d never told Kylo how or why, though. That was fine enough.

He stared queerly at himself for a moment.

Though, the thing with his grandfather was now…

His stomach rumbled, embarrassingly audible, and he remembered his hunger. Shrugging, he rubbed a little bit of bacta on the part he’d just opened up – just in case – and went to the kitchen.

Hux was sitting at the table already. Upon his return, Kylo had told one of the Guard to unlock Hux’s door. But… it was odd, Kylo realized, that this would be the first thing Hux thought of doing. And it was surprising Hux had been able to get down here, in the first place. Perhaps a Guard had assisted him.

Hux glanced up at him, then back down at his food. Hux was frowning at it like it was giving him some sort of trouble. Kylo sat down across from Hux. Hux attempted to leave, but Kylo made a chiding sort of noise, and Hux sat back down. Kylo couldn’t help but smirk. And his body language,  _ oh _ , it was so  _ tense _ , so closed off and  _ fearful _ ! How wonderful.

Kylo ate until he got kind of bored, kind of restless, and he looked at Hux.

“What did your father do to you?”

“ _ What _ ?” Hux spat.

Shock, anger, whatever coursed through him.

“You dream really loudly,” Kylo lied. “Last night, I could hear something.”

“What do you mean I  _ dream  _ loudly – and anyways, I didn’t  _ sleep  _ last night, I haven’t for –”

He made a sort of strangled, gasping sound. Gurgled, stupidly. The forearm that had been resting on the table was sitting up now, a lazy claw facing Hux.

“That’s not… what I asked you,” Kylo said.

He watched Hux, curious, felt the panic in his mind. He released Hux, and Hux drew in deep, sucking breaths.

At length, Hux managed, “You already know. I know you do.”

Kylo sort of half-smiled. It felt odd.

“You feel it, then?”

“Figured it out.”

Hux blinked, slowly, and Kylo realized that he was trying to hold back tears. He snorted.

“That’s kind of… impressive. Considering you’re not at all sensitive, I wouldn’t have tho-”

“Just  _ stop, _ ” Hux said, through clenched teeth, “Will you please just –”

Kylo cocked his head.

“Do you want to die?” he asked, calm, quiet.

Hux stared back at him. He was slow at it now, but somehow, perhaps as a reflex instilled too deeply within him, Hux attempted to show that he was unbothered.

“I’ve already seen it happen to me enough times that I don’t think I’d be very afraid of the real thing.”

“Hmm…” Kylo considered this. He sat up straighter, continued, “Maybe not. Maybe I _was_ too heavy-handed, too quick. But you know that I know you’re pleading. You know I’m inside your head, and you know there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You already know how this will end, because you know no one can – or will – help you, and you know this won’t end until I’m satisfied.”

Hux was still staring at him, his expression as blank as a dead man’s. A single, slow, angry tear slid down his right cheek. He spoke, and his voice was quiet, stony, resigned, desperate.

“Just do it already, then.”

Kylo inhaled deeply. He was certain his eyes had taken on the odd, insane light they did from time to time. The sort of look that he’d learned he had through fear: from his parents, his fellow padawans, his victims. There was a  _ need _ , and he was going absolutely _ crazy _ with it. But it would be better – so much better – if he waited just a while longer. He leaned forward.

“Hux, are you listening? Do I have your attention?”

Hux looked at him with confusion, but slowly, understanding what Kylo wanted, he nodded.

“Good. Hux, I hate you. Not in the way I hate everyone, not in the unbearable way I feel for some. Somewhere in between. But every time you acted superior to me, felt like you’d won, or like you’d said something smarter, or felt that maybe Snoke liked you more – I hated you more. And I thought of a way you could die. That’s all I’ve shown you; what I think of you. So now, you want to die. But you don’t  _ need  _ to. And I won’t kill you until then, until I’ve thought of the perfect way, until you come to me, on your knees, begging for death.” He paused, and Hux was still only giving him that same, stupid, blank expression. “Do you understand?” he asked.

Hux rasped, “Yes, I –”

Kylo had Force-pushed Hux out of his chair, and he fell to the unforgiving, duracrete floor with a grunt. Kylo walked around the table and stood before Hux. Hux was clutching his side with one hand, his other outstretched.

“No, you don’t.”

Kylo’s boot-clad foot came down with full force on the waiting hand, and he felt the bones give a satisfying crunch beneath him. Hux screamed, and Kylo felt the hairs on his arms and neck stand. Oh,  _ yes _ , this wasn’t boring at all, this was just about the most _ enrapturing _ thing Kylo had ever seen in his life.

He gave Hux a kick, not enough to do any serious damage, but enough to shock him. He squatted down next to Hux.

“I’m going to give you some time to think,” Kylo told Hux, “and when I come back, I’ll be interested to hear all about the ways your shitty, Imperialist father abused you.” He held up a hand. “I know I already know, but I think you’ll want to tell me anyway.”

He left Hux safely in the cocoon of Force terror. Never-ending visions of a dark man standing just beside him as he slept, vanishing when he awoke with a start to look. The awful, anxious feeling of being almost to safety.

 

*       *       *

 

Kylo was dreaming about dead children.

He’d had this dream before, but not in a long time. It was just past twilight. Thunderstorms. Mud splattered on his new boots and robes and cape.

Children screamed. He was not, truthfully, much older than them. Many he’d known for many years, half of his childhood or so. Some, he still looked younger than, despite being older.

Still, they screamed, and didn’t they know that if they were actually so intent on keeping hold of their precious lives they shouldn’t scream so loudly? Didn’t they know how it encouraged him, drove him on, made him fill to bursting with the need to make them stop?

Before any of the padawans with sabers of their own could get to him, he took his first. The  _ whumpf _ of his lightsaber driving through the soft, young flesh drove a crazed ecstasy through him so strong he himself felt like screaming.

This wasn’t the first time he’d killed anyone, and maybe that made it better, and maybe that made it worse.

But this was different, and even then he’d known that, known how much more significance this carried.

And then – not actually how it had gone – his uncle was challenging him, yelling, crying, and they crossed the blades of their sabers, and he woke up.

He felt that old, ancient rage, which he hadn’t known was inside of him anymore. But then he remembered he never really got over anything, and he probably wouldn’t be where he was if he was any different than that.

Hux was fitfully sleeping in his own room. Kylo used the Force to open slam open the door, to drag Hux out of sleep, and to show him something new. The feeling of all of his skin being peeled, section by section, away from his body. Slow, eternal, with the Force, a knife, a lightsaber, whatever Hux might like. Hux’s cries of pain, his sobs, his writhing – these were all very real. And, when Hux saw himself without skin, a pile of blood and muscle and agony, Kylo slapped him, bringing him back to reality. And left him, gasping, crying, moaning  _ meaningless _ .

 

*       *       *

 

_ It’s because I’ve done something he couldn’t _ .

Kylo’s eyes shot open, his body frozen, meditation paused in the darkness of his room. He found himself, shaky, uneasy.

_ Or… didn’t _ , he corrected.

Still, it wasn’t as if he could deny it. Vader had told him enough times about his downfall. He could hear it in his head:

“In the end, it was my son, your uncle, that undid me. I chose him over everything I’d built. Everything I’d chosen for twenty years, all the ways I’d struggled to rebuild myself, thrown away because of some pull toward the light.”

Those that had known Ben – those select, scattered few – probably assumed he didn’t know about that. They probably thought he believed Vader had cursed the light until his bitter end, and that Kylo was devoting himself to… what? An imaginary ideal then, probably.

But it wasn’t like that. True, that was a reasonable assumption, since his parents and his uncle had certainly never told him about any of this. They’d never even told him Vader was his grandfather in the first place. Well, his uncle had tried, just before he’d become himself (as he liked to think of it), but by then Kylo had been familiar with Vader/Anakin for years.

And anyway, even if Vader  _ had  _ chosen good at the very end, Kylo knew how often he regretted it. Vader had told Kylo, again, and again, and again, to do  _ better _ , child, make the right choice, the one I could not, do it right this time. So  _ this  _ idea was what he strove towards. It was only more that Vader was the best example Kylo had for any of this.

But that had still led to all of the reverence and everything else, of course.

Okay, well, he really couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d taken the step that Vader didn’t, couldn’t, whatever. Unknown regions, uncharted outer rims. He didn’t want to say he was stronger. He couldn’t.

A while later that day, much as he’d expected, Snoke called to him.

_ In my quarters _ , Snoke said.

_ Okay _ , he said.

He passed Hux’s room on his way there, of course. The man was laying on the bed, head leaning against the wall, one leg stretched out, one leg hung off the side of the bed. He’d stripped down even further, now wearing a white undershirt, his pants, socks. The shirt was still tucked in, but if there had been a belt, Kylo didn’t see it. In one of the little miracles of life, Hux had apparently remembered to bring cigarettes and was smoking one. Kylo hadn’t actually known he smoked.

“Hey, Hux,” Kylo said, as casual as if he was an old friend.

Even directly in Hux’s line of sight when he’d pushed open the door, Hux hadn’t given any signal that he’d noticed Kylo. Now, as if it took great effort to do so, Hux turned his eyes up to look at him.

“How are you?” Kylo asked.

Hux rolled his eyes and looked away again, toward the opposite wall now. He raised the cigarette to his lips, took a drag, puffed it out. That was with his good hand, his right hand. Kylo looked at his left, which had swollen to perhaps twice its size and had turned lovely shades of violet, burgundy, scarlet.

Kylo thought for a moment.

He ignited the cigarette until it was a neat little flame, but he forced Hux’s mouth to hold onto it, so that it the flames licked pleasantly up Hux’s lips, climbing onto the facial hair that had grown. It shouldn’t have been able to, but Kylo forced the fire into Hux’s mouth, made it curl up the inside of his cheeks and over his tongue, a tender, bloody kiss. The panic in Hux’s eyes was instantaneous and fulfilling. Every muscle in his body strained for him to leap up, to  _ do something _ , but Kylo held him there.

It was only maybe ten seconds of torture – if that – but by the time Kylo released Hux, tears were well underway in Hux’s eyes. The skin around his mouth was red and shiny. He looked at Kylo with pure, beautiful animosity.

“Fuck  _ you _ ,” he snarled, and blood sprayed a bit from his mouth, dripped on his chin.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing so well,” Kylo said.

He was out the door and then laughing to himself because:  _ shirt buttons and belts are jobs for  _ two  _ hands, of course. Of course! _

But then there was Snoke, not contrasting quite right with the red, and that took the humor right out of him.

“Master,” Kylo said, kneeling and bowing his head a little. “I’m sorry I took so long, I was –”

“You’ve been doing well with him. You’ll be done by the end of tomorrow?”

Kylo felt himself flush at the rare compliment, despite himself.

“Yes,” Kylo told him. “I knew that was why you told him a week.”

“Good,” Snoke said. “However, that’s not what we’re here to discuss.” Kylo nodded. “You feel you’re stronger than Darth Vader.”

“I…”

“It would be more foolish to not admit it.”

 “Maybe, but – maybe I do. I’m not sure I can know until…”

“You’ll have your chance, soon enough.”

“I know,” Kylo said.

He wondered, for the first time, why Snoke had patiently indulged him for so long.

 

*       *       *

 

He decided to spend the rest of the day pushing, as hard as he could, up to the breaking point. Not over, though; he’d savor that when the time came. He had found a chair he could take, and he’d brought it into Hux’s room and bound Hux to it. (It was interesting, Kylo had always thought, that there weren’t any torture chambers here, to begin with.) He had sat on Hux’s bed, comfortable enough, and had begun to watch his machinations unfold.

That had been an hour ago, maybe, and in that time Kylo had shown him five different fantasies.

First, Hux was as he was now, and was castrated, but since lightsabers cauterized a wound he didn’t bleed out, like what happened if you used a normal knife. He’d pulled Hux out of that one, so he saw it wasn’t real, only to see Kylo holding his saber, ready to do it in reality. Hux screamed, Kylo laughed and extinguished his saber.

Second, not a moment wasted, Hux woke up his bed, and Kylo and Snoke were gone. Miraculously, the comms worked again (since Kylo had seen to it that all of Hux’s were broken). Hux was able to get off the planet, heart pounding all the while, was picked up by a ship to take him back to the  _ Finalizer _ , back to being a general and maybe more, now that the people standing in his way were gone. Panic and disgust, however, overcame him when he discovered, as they exited the atmosphere of this cursed, backwoods planet, that the pilot on the ship was none other than a Resistance spy. He was unceremoniously shot with a blaster.

Third… eh, Kylo was passive after that. Hux’s mind was addled by enough fear and anxiety and whatever else that it could take care of it. He only knew there were three, four, five distinct visions because of the way Hux’s mind was shifting around.

He needed time to think of the last things to do. He wanted to be done soon. Killing Hux was interesting enough, and he was still enjoying himself, to be sure, but he was anxious to learn who he was now. Hux was part of the tentative past.

But there was still so much to be done. Hux’s angry response earlier had demonstrated that. He needed there to be only fear when he finally did kill Hux. He needed Hux to be reduced only to this.

Sitting criss-crossed, cheeks held in his palms, he gazed placidly at Hux. He watched the labored breathing, the pained contortions of his face, the way his body sagged just so. And he considered his options.

He could violate Hux. It had been a while since he’d last done that to any of his victims. It had already happened to Hux at least once, Kylo had discovered, and from experience, he knew it was worse for the victim if it wasn’t the first time. And especially with the right victim -- because you couldn’t just do it to  _ anyone _ , it was a tool, and you had to know how to use it like one -- it really was one of the most satisfying acts he could think of committing. But as he observed Hux’s sweaty, unwashed skin, roved over his frail, nearly broken frame… Kylo knew he was too disgusted by the ugly creature in front of him to seriously allow such an intimacy.

But… there  _ were  _ other physical mutilations he could attempt. And --  _ oh, yes _ \-- he had the time for them, too. He’d been too piecemeal about this up until now; it was time to commit.

Jumping up from the bed, he made his way to the kitchen and picked out a couple of knives. A large one, a curved one, a smaller one. He inspected them lovingly, watching as they caught the light. Pausing, thinking, he grabbed some towels, a bowl of water. He was inexperienced at this but… that seemed right.

He felt almost  _ giddy _ if he could believe that. He’d attempted something like this only once before, years ago, and it had made him sick afterward. But he wasn’t so weak now, so unused to his own sadism. The wonders he could create now. He could scarcely imagine it for his own excitement.

Kylo returned to the room. He set his materials down gently on the bed, arranging them neatly. He closed the door. He turned back to Hux. Kylo pulled him to consciousness, and Hux groaned, stirring just a little.

“Did you have good dreams?” Kylo asked.

Hux just sort of looked back at him, his eyes narrowing. He seemed to register the knives on the bed, and Kylo felt how his pulse quickened.

“Haven’t we –” Hux grimaced; his mouth was probably still painful – “Haven’t we been at this long enough?” Hux rasped.

“Haven’t you gotten what you wanted yet?” he accused. “I know I’m not leaving here. Just do it already.”

Kylo shook his head.

“You’re bargaining,” he told Hux, “and that, to me, says want. Not need.”

He walked around the chair, untying one of Hux’s hands. The unbroken one. It would hurt less to start with, but the psychological distress would be greater, in the end. A nice build. This, at least, he was familiar with. He felt Hux’s muscles tighten, and Kylo made Hux very aware of just how much Force he was using to hold Hux there. Hux untensed.

He led Hux’s arm back around to the front, showing his hand to him. Hux looked at his hand, then up at Kylo’s face, then back at his hand, a puzzled expression on his face all the while.

“I think you know what I intend,” Kylo said.

Using the Force, he pulled the smallest knife into his hand. The blade was about the size of his palm, and the black handle felt smooth and good in his grip. 

Hux tried to thrash, to break free, but with how Kylo was holding him down, his body didn’t actually move at all. Only his eyes, wild and frenzied, showed his extreme panic.

Staring at Hux’s undamaged hand as if it were a thing of beauty, Kylo ran the side of the knife back and forth, from knuckles to wrist. No pressure, only a gentle back and forth, feeling how the knife tugged at the skin this way, but not that. Hux’s eyes followed the blade’s movement, horrified and blown large.

“But I want you to tell me anyway.”

Hux stared at him as if he was crazy. Fair enough, but Kylo brandished the knife, giving him a condescending look. Hux took a deep breath.

“You’re going to _ aauuGHH _ .”

The knife had sunk in, at a nice angle, beginning on the back of Hux’s hand where it met his wrist. Kylo paused, the blade still under the skin. Hux was panting.

“What was that?”

With obvious effort this time, Hux gasped, “You – you’re planning to –  _ AHHH  _ – flay the s-SKIIUNN – from my –  _ fuck, fuck, fuck you! AUGH!” _

Kylo had just made it to the beginning of his second knuckle, only a fairly thin strip of flesh cut away so far. He’d actually never done this before -- not with a knife, anyway -- and it was fascinating, the way the skin slowly let go of the muscles and tendons underneath. There was a bit of give – an obvious reluctance on the part of the two layers – but the knife was sharp enough that it came away all the same.

Kylo pulled the knife away, tearing the piece of skin off with his hand. It was tough, and veered to the left, taking some more skin from under the other knuckles with it. It was pale, flimsy, kind of slippery on both sides, from sweat and blood. He searched a moment, realizing he hadn’t considered where he was going to  _ put  _ Hux’s flesh once he’d separated it from Hux, and Force-pulled one of the towels onto the ground next to him. Well, there was as good enough as any place else. He dropped it in and turned back to Hux.

“You know, we still have a lot more to get through,” Kylo said. “But it’s going to be kind of hard to get it done if I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Hux was breathing heavily still, his body wanting to shake. And what? Just from that? Kylo felt like laughing.

“Fuck you,” Hux said, “Kill me.”

Kylo pretended to consider this, bringing the knife to his lip. He then stripped away another layer of skin, next to the first, but much more quickly. He allowed himself to smile as Hux screamed for him.

“I don’t think so.”

He took the rest of the skin from the back of Hux’s hand before he stopped again. From the sound of things, Hux’s voice wasn’t going to last much longer. That was disappointing, but it wasn’t like Hux himself was going to last much longer, either, anyways. The hand was positively gushing blood at this point, and Kylo didn’t know if Snoke would mind blood getting on the floor, but whatever. He pushed the bowl of water under Hux’s hand.

Kylo crouched down to Hux’s level. Speaking slowly, enunciating each syllable, he said, “Now.  _ What am I go-ing to do? _ ”

“You’re going to f-f-f-f _ lay the skin from my hand! From my hand! _ ”

At least, that was more or less what he said. In between all the screaming and the begging, which eventually dissolved to a steady stream of  _ “killmekillmekillmekillmekillme _ ”, almost admirable in its dedication. Finally, all of the skin removed from Hux’s hand – or, well, as much as Kylo cared to take, as there were still bits and pieces here and there – Kylo paused, set the knife down on the bed, and looked at Hux.

Hux’s breathing was ragged, frantic, kind of funny when he wheezed – a high, nasal sound – now or then. Hux was staring off into nowhere. All at once, he seemed to notice the blinding pain of the knife was no longer upon him, and consciousness crept back into his eyes. He stared first at Kylo, blank as could be, and his eyes then made their slow journey to his hand. It was a bright, pretty red; it dripped, almost thoughtfully, into the water with a soft  _ plop-plop-plop _ .

Kylo took Hux’s jaw in his hand, forcing Hux’s face towards his.

“What was that you wanted?”

“No, I n-”

He slapped Hux.

“Mm-mm, no, this isn’t something you  _ need _ . What do you  _ want _ , Armitage?”

Hux stared at his bloodied hand, saying nothing.

This time, using the Force: “Tell me what  _ you want _ .”

“To die!” Hux screeched, and there was blood on his teeth. “I want you to kill me! I want to die!”

“No.”

Hux screeched in frustration and started crying, really and openly sobbing, and Kylo started on his other hand. Today was apparently full of new lessons, as Kylo learned just how far human vocal cords could be pushed. It was much further than he’d expected.

 

*       *       *

Hux was dozing, still seated in the chair, having passed out from the pain not long ago. Kylo had stopped with the skinning after the hands were done. He’d paused to play with the broken bones in his left – and a great intrigue that had been, as he’d lightly poked and prodded. And then he’d started a game with Hux. It went like this: if Hux could sit through the next piece of torture Kylo gave him without screaming, then Kylo would kill him. If not, they’d keep going, and Kylo, in his infinite generosity, would give Hux as many chances as he needed.

But Kylo, always more concerned with winning than most anything else, had never particularly believed in playing fairly. Every time Hux began to believe release was in hand, Kylo would constrict his vocal cords and force the scream out of him. Even when he knew the vibrations were beginning to make Hux’s throat bleed, and, of course, even when the screaming was likely as painful as whatever Kylo was currently doing to him.

This had lasted maybe an hour, or an hour and a half, with Kylo switching between bloodier, physical torture and mind probes as he liked. He’d never really done so much mutilation to a body before. The blood, as it always did, awoke a deep-seated, ravishing hunger within him. And the only way to even begin to sate it would be to go further. And so he did.

Hux had finally passed out after Kylo had pulled a couple of his teeth, slumping over and, fascinatingly enough, pissing his pants.

Now Kylo sat back on the bed, legs spread a little, arms stretched comfortably behind him. He stared critically at Hux’s face, surveying the damage. One of Hux’s eyes was swelling nicely. Blood still trickled – though would likely come to a stop soon – from his forehead. Blood had crusted in other places, like near his ears, or under his nose, which twisted at an odd angle. He was made a mouth breather, and his labored breaths came out as a funny sort of whistle on account of the teeth. It was something of an improvement, Kylo thought, because at least the ugliness was very obvious now.

He was reminded, absurdly, of a conversation with Hux some three years prior.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hux had said.

They’d been sitting in one of the officer’s common rooms aboard the  _ Finalizer _ , in between orders from Snoke. This was one of the nicer rooms: small, plush, though just as monochromatic as everywhere else on the star destroyer. The only two there at the time, they were seated in couches across from each other; Hux was reclined just slightly, wearily almost, and Kylo was sprawled obscenely. He’d set his helmet aside for the moment. It had been years, at this point, since Hux had first seen him without it, and Kylo no longer much cared about keeping it on around him.

Kylo had stared at Hux with a tired sort of expression, spreading one of his hands to the right.

“Why did you choose this? You’re a powerful Force user, even I can see that, and I can’t imagine the Jedi didn’t appreciate your abilities.”

“I would’ve thought that with how you practically cream yourself for the First Order that you would have no trouble understanding why someone would choose to join it.”

Hux’s nostrils flared, and his face looked very tight, and Kylo’s expression still hadn’t changed from the somewhat disinterested facetiousness he’d trained himself into. Hux didn’t seem to know how to respond to this.

Looking off to the side – it was always so much easier to talk when you didn’t have to actually look at the person – Kylo had answered, as if Hux should’ve known, “The Jedi have a very narrow view of the Force. They don’t  _ appreciate  _ when you step outside of it. Or they didn’t.”

“So you’re saying you decided your energy was best expended other places?”

He looked back at Hux, who had leaned forward at some point, who had this glimmer in his eyes. Kylo had felt his annoyance rising at this man, this disgusting, ambitious creature who would one day be nothing. He knew what he’d signed up for, but his indifference to the suffering he might cause for his selfishness was not the same as the glean in Hux’s psyche for advancement driven by genocide.

“Why do you care so much?”

Hux had remained silent.

“Right.” Kylo shook his head. “You really want to know? You assumed that this was a choice. You’re wrong. But not in the way you’re going to assume next -- there was no ideological appeal to this for me. No moral obligation to bring ‘order to the galaxy’, or however you decide to put it. Honestly? I hate the Jedi. I hate what they stand for. This was the only alternative. And you’ve seen why it holds appeal for me.”

It had been true; years prior, when they had been new to one another still, Hux had asked to accompany Kylo to one of his torture sessions, just to see. Hux had radiated this disturbed sort of morbid curiosity the entire time. Hux hadn’t wanted to see Kylo work since then. In fact, Hux had seemed to want to avoid the subject of what Kylo’s day-to-day schedule entailed almost entirely since then.

“But you’re not going to understand that. I know you’re not. But Hux --” he laughed to himself, ever so low and slight -- “don’t act as if what you do is any better. You brainwash children for a living, Hux. Not exactly glamorous or noble, no matter how you try to spin it.”

Hux hadn’t spoken for a long time, and that had confused Kylo enough to stop trying to look so haughty. He’d looked back at Hux and –

Hux was stirring, faintly moaning. Kylo stood, wishing he had the sort of torture chair he did on the  _ Finalizer  _ or  _ Star Killer _ since it was admittedly sort of awkward looming over Hux like this, and sitting down wasn’t very intimidating at all. Hux came to gently, more like a lover awakening in a warm bed beside their beloved than like the crumpled, bloody plaything Hux was currently, Kylo thought. Hux even attempted to stretch, but it seemed that the barrier to this movement was what finally reminded him of his situation. His eyes snapped open, and he locked in on Kylo. The hurt sort of anger that twisted his face reminded Kylo very much of the expression Hux had had during the conversation he’d been reminiscing about, all those years ago.

Kylo waited for Hux to say something, to swear or protest again, but they only stared at each other in silence.

“Well,” Kylo said, finally.

Hux kept his face turned up, and his mouth shut. It took Kylo a minute, but he noticed there was a sadness in Hux’s eyes. He didn’t understand it.

“Well,” Kylo tried again, “I think you have something to ask me.”

Hux gazed at him a moment longer, then opened his mouth. A peculiar whizzing sound was all that came out.

“Oh,” Kylo said.

Using the Force, he brought some of the bloodied water to Hux’s lips. To Kylo’s amusement and, apparently, excitement, Hux accepted. Hux still said nothing, for so long that Kylo began to think that maybe he needed more water. As he moved to give Hux more, however, Hux spoke.

“You hated me this much?” Hux croaked, and even through the dullness of his burnt throat and mouth, tongue, lips, he still managed to whine, to be self-pitying and miserable.

“That’s half of it,” Kylo agreed, “but I needed the catharsis too, you see. After, well… Anyways, there’s something you’d rather ask.”

Hux licked his lips, glancing around the room. Maybe he was looking for some last hope; maybe he was thinking of an elegant way to say it. Kylo didn’t breathe, for fear of tipping the scales the wrong way. This was the moment if ever there had been one. When Hux locked eyes with Kylo again, Kylo could see in them, in his soul, that he would mean it.

He felt he could cry from the sudden, overwhelming joy.

“Kill me.”

It felt tender, amorous,  _ arousing _ . Kylo felt breathless. He crouched down in front of Hux, staring intently into his eyes.

“Again.”

“Kill me,  _ please _ .”

“Like you mean it!”

“I want to  _ die _ ! I want you to end this! To end – ”

“Even though it will mean the end of your career as a general? And any future hopes of advancement? Of power?”

As he said this, he unbound Hux from the chair and dumped him onto the floor. He landed on his hands and knees. Kylo was certain his hands must be causing him tremendous pain, but Hux didn’t show any trace of it.

“Yes!” Hux said, turning his face up to Kylo. “Yes, please,  _ anything just to end this _ !”

“Even though it will mean I’ve won? That you willingly concede your life to me?”

There was no  _ will  _ about it, but Hux was clutching at Kylo’s ankles, neck bent all the way back.

“ _ Yes, kill me _ ,” he begged, and tears ran down his face. “ _ Oh gods, please Kylo, I want  _ you  _ to kill me, only you, please, end this, end me, I _ –”

Kylo realized, too late, that he should’ve focused more on wearing down Hux’s self-esteem than his will to live, that this moment could’ve been ten times more satisfying, more beautiful, but no matter. He looked down at Hux with warm indifference. His hands, ungloved in a show of intimacy he had not performed since he was a teenager, caressed Hux’s face.

“I want you to tell me one more time,” Kylo said, softly. His right hand drifted up to the side of Hux’s head. “I want you to tell me what you want, Armitage.”

“I want you to kill me.”

And it sounded, in the only sort of connection Kylo came close to understanding, like “I love you”.

His thumbs rubbed back and forth on Hux’s cheeks. He searched Hux’s face once more. He found fracture. Despair. And need. Need that Kylo had sown into him. Need that Kylo knew only he could satisfy now. He had become Hux’s whole world.

He stifled a moan.

_ Very well. _

With the Force to aid him, he snapped Hux’s neck.

The cracking of his vertebrae was lovely. The calm that overtook his dead eyes was ethereal. He fell gracefully to the floor, his body twisted in all the wrong ways, and Kylo thought that this was what real beauty was, if he even had a capacity for appreciating such things.

He stood, considering Hux’s crumpled form. He thought of the pain the lifeless form in front of him had brought upon the galaxy, following in his monstrous father’s footsteps. He thought of the peace he saw now, of the good he had objectively done. For himself. For everyone.

The distinction was necessary. He had hated Hux -- hated him still, filled with malice and tempted to rip his body apart further -- but there was a connection, even so. People like Hux and him, they had a special capacity to get to where they were. To become  _ who  _ they were. To commit unspeakable atrocities, to be horrible, to feel justified in doing so.

And the worst part was this. He would never be fully capable of comprehending the consequences of his actions. He would never even be able to understand how little he understood. Everyone he had hurt, first or secondhand. Everyone he had helped hurt someone else. All the pain, wrought from joy, love, empathy. This was the price of absolution. This was the price of authenticity.

Had he failed, yet again?

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He couldn’t help that he had to sit down, falling on the bed behind him. He couldn’t control the laughter that came then. The peals of pure absurdity; the relation between the victor and the corpse.

He didn’t understand the tears when they came.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment here or come talk to me on tumblr at antagonist-official.tumblr.com .


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